


Before you tempt me further

by LiveOakWithMoss



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: (A bit of crack remains however), Alcohol, Curufin is bad at sharing, Finrod and Celegorm don't totally like each other but that doesn't stop them, Finrod is very interested in the corporeal manifestations of the Ainur, Finrod won't shut the fuck up while fucking, Foursome, Humor, It was supposed to be crack but I took it too seriously, Jealousy, M/M, Multi, Orome wants to know who signed him up for this, PWP, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-26
Updated: 2015-04-26
Packaged: 2018-03-25 11:02:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3807958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiveOakWithMoss/pseuds/LiveOakWithMoss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Jealous?” Celegorm whispered to him.</p><p>Curufin growled. “I should never have agreed to this. I must have been drunk.”</p><p>“You were,” Celegorm agreed, "very drunk."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Before you tempt me further

**Author's Note:**

> 0\. This is what happens when you take two (actually..three! there’s some overlap) of your favorite ships and smush them together to see what happens. You get...the least likely OT4 ever. Granted, I’ve written three of these goobers together before, but man, adding a Vala reallly changes the dynamic. Also, don’t ask where or when or how this happened - I contrived it STRICTLY as an act of self-indulgence, and I dunno, maybe Orome just apparated to Nargothrond for a surprise visit or something. Also, I was unprepared for how stubborn some of these characters would be. Some of them flatly refused to play together and I had to keep whacking at them and giving them wine until they did. Aie.

Celegorm wrapped an arm around Curufin’s waist and dragged him away from Finrod with a rather spiteful grin.

“Enjoying yourself, little brother?” he murmured, sinking his teeth lightly into the lobe of Curufin’s ear.

Curufin shifted restlessly in his arms, half annoyed, half distracted by Celegorm’s wandering hand. “Not really.” His eyes were fixed on Finrod, and if he had been anyone else, Celegorm would have called his expression anxious.

Finrod barely seemed to have noticed that Curufin had been pulled away from him, so absorbed was he in the Vala stretched out along the side of the bed, taking up an impressive amount of space.

Finrod reached out a curious hand, and then hesitated. “Is it all right if I touch you?”

Oromë’s eyes were narrowed to slits. “If it is all right with Tyelkormo.”

Celegorm’s smile was wicked. “If you can handle him, Findaráto, I have no objections.”

Curufin twitched involuntarily in Celegorm’s arms, and Celegorm pressed a long kiss to his throat. “I’ll be interested to see how that fragile pet of yours takes…certain things,” he whispered, and there was an eagerly malicious note to his voice.

Curufin squirmed against him, only partially placated by Celegorm’s continued attention to his neck. “This was a _terrible_ idea.”

“I may agree,” came Oromë’s low rumble, even as Finrod slipped out of his loose robe. “Tyelkormo – ”

Celegorm stretched across the bed to whisper in Oromë’s ear, his arm still wrapped around his brother. Oromë’s eyes flickered from amber to gold as he listened to Celegorm, and as Finrod slid naked onto the bed, his hands brushing against Oromë’s bare chest, Oromë’s slit pupils dilated. He raised his own hands to Finrod’s waist as Celegorm settled back against the pillows, watching with a smirk on his lips. Curufin was not quite as sanguine, his teeth actually bared as he watched Finrod settle astride Oromë’s lap, his blue eyes alive with curiosity and his fair skin lightly flushed.

“Jealous?” Celegorm whispered to him.

Curufin growled. “I should never have agreed to this. I must have been drunk.”

“You were,” Celegorm agreed, rolling over on his side so that Curufin was forced to look away from Oromë and Finrod, even as his back pressed up against them. “Very drunk.”

Behind them, Finrod made a faint sound of surprise and pleasure, and Curufin ground his teeth so hard Celegorm expected them to crack.

“Manwë, stop being so uptight and let me distract you,” said Celegorm, his hands sliding down Curufin’s stomach.

“Is it too much to ask that you not use that particular name while in bed with me?” Oromë’s deep voice held the faintest hint of annoyance. “We’ve talked about this.”

“Oh come on, I’m in bed with _my_ brother, you can’t even handle saying the name of your…”

“That’s an interesting point,” Finrod put in. “I’ve always wondered about the exact nature of siblinghood amongst the Valar. When you say ‘brother’ or ‘sister’ is it in a purely symbolic sense, or – ”

Oromë frowned at him. “You truly desire a treatise on the nature of interrelation amongst the Ainur while engaged in the act of physical pleasure?”

Celegorm and Curufin exchanged long-suffering looks. “Oh, you better believe it.”

“If not now, when?” protested Finrod mildly. He traced a hand over Oromë’s chest as Celegorm watched with glittering eyes and a half smile. “When else am I likely to have such an intimate opportunity to inquire as to – ”

“Oh, shut _up_ ,” snarled Curufin, jerking free of Celegorm’s grasp and seizing Finrod around the waist. “You insufferable, nonsensical, insatiable _fool_ …” He kissed Finrod possessively, while Celegorm rolled his eyes and settled back into the crook of Oromë’s arm.

“We should get him liquored up again and he’ll calm down,” he called to Finrod, who was laughing and letting himself be savaged, while Oromë ran a rather relieved hand over Celegorm’s stomach. “Curvo, you weren’t half this prickly last night…”

“Let him,” murmured Oromë, laying his mouth to Celegorm’s ear. “I would far rather make love to you alone.” He rolled over, pressing Celegorm down into the bed, and Celegorm laughed, widening his legs to cradle Oromë against his groin.

On the other side of the bed, Curufin had pushed Finrod down roughly and was kissing him breathless, his knees on either side of Finrod’s hips.

A light of competition flashed in Celegorm’s eyes as he wrapped his arms around Oromë’s neck. “Well, if you insist…let’s show them how it’s done.”

 

* * *

 

Some time later, his skin shining with sweat, Finrod propped himself on one arm, the other draped over an uncharacteristically languorous Curufin’s waist, and glanced over at the other two – who, it had to be said, were taking up most of the bed.

“It would seem,” said Oromë, raising his head from the wild tangle of Celegorm’s hair, “that the act of love has the same effect on your brother as does strong drink.”

“It does,” said Celegorm lazily. “He’s always easier after a good fuck.”

Curufin made a peevish, protesting noise, but didn’t move from where he was slumped bonelessly against Finrod’s body. Finrod kissed his shoulder and raised bright eyes to Oromë.

“What kind of a refractory period does a Vala have?”

“None,” said Celegorm, with a languorous stretch. “Curious, Findaráto?” The grin he shot across the bed was not entirely friendly. “Come here.” He slid upright, his own movements indolent with sated pleasure, and wrapped his fingers around Finrod’s wrist.

Finrod let himself be pulled into a rough kiss with more teeth than was perhaps necessary, before Celegorm swung him around with one powerful movement, laying him against Oromë’s chest.

“Go on, Findaráto,” he said, as Curufin grumbled. “Indulge your curiosity.”

 

* * *

 

Celegorm covered Curufin’s protests with long, sloppy kisses, while Finrod laid his hands once again on Oromë’s chest and let the Vala lift him as easily as if he weighed nothing at all, settling him with his thighs tight around his waist. “Are you sure you want to do this, son of Arafinwë?”

“Yes,” said Finrod decidedly. “But like your objection to taking Manwë’s name in vain in your presence, I would appreciate if you didn’t mention my father just now.”

“Point taken. Are you ready?”

“Yes. More than – _oh_. Oh, n – _yes._ Wait, did you just change something?”

“I am accommodating you.”

Finrod’s eyes widened. “You can do that?”

“One of my favorite tricks, that,” muttered Celegorm, yawning against Curufin’s shoulder.

“Yes, I can do that.”

“Can you…change in other ways, too? Can you, for example…” Finrod gasped and dug his fingers into Oromë’s skin. “…Yes, that was exactly what I was going to ask.”

“Words,” said Celegorm, almost to himself. “Not entirely necessary here, Findaráto…you should enjoy that.”

But Finrod seemed to have no intention of stopping talking. “I had not assumed that the Valar – ah, yes, there – were able to shift shape so freely, or casually. Is this the case for all your brethren, or – ai, Eru!”

“That’s another one that’s off limits,” grunted Oromë, trying to silence Finrod by rolling him down to the mattress, but Finrod would not be suppressed.

“You have created physical form for yourself – quite functional physical form, I might add, _ahh_ – does it follow the rules of biological imperative? If you have functional – _unh_ – organs, does that mean you have associated urges? Hunger, and thirst, and lust…?”

“Lust certainly is a factor,” said Celegorm, tangling his legs with Curufin’s to keep his brother from moving across the bed. “I would say that is a well-replicated quality, eh, Oromë?”

“I can see that you two are related,” said Oromë, tugging one of Finrod’s thighs around his waist. “Neither of you seems capable of shutting up in bed.”

“I feel your pain,” said Curufin waspishly, kicking at Celegorm’s feet.

“And then,” Finrod went on, even though he was clearly nearing incoherence, “do you experience the moment of climax? And if so, is it…true to nature? What do you do with bodily fluids? Blood, and seed, and – ”

“That’s enough,” said Oromë, and shot Celegorm a look. “I’m not supposed to damage him, you said?”

“I never said that,” said Celegorm, with a wolfish grin. “Do what you need to do…”

“No,” snapped Curufin. He twisted free of Celegorm and sat up, naked and disheveled. “That’s it, we’re leaving.”

“I’m not done!” said Finrod, indignantly, even as his fingers clenched in the bed sheets.

“You can ask such questions after you’re dead,” snarled Curufin. “Plenty of time for them then.”

“I didn’t mean done with – _Eru_! Sorry, sorry – questions,” said Finrod, indistinctly, his eyes closed. “I meant done with…other…oh, oh, please…” His eyes snapped open suddenly, as Oromë stopped moving.

“I’ll let you finish,” said Oromë, very quietly. “If you don’t say another word until I’m done.”

“But,” said Finrod, “the corporeal mixed with the metaphysical is something I’ve always – ”

“I will stop _now_ ,” said Oromë firmly. “If you don’t shut up. I’m not as driven by physical needs as you are. Valar don’t _get_ blue balls.”

“Just knock him unconscious,” said Curufin, losing his patience entirely. “He’ll be easier to drag off, then. And quieter.”

Finrod clamped his lips shut and looked pleading.

Celegorm laughed. “Eru knows I have no reason to feel generous towards my fair cousin,” he said, “but be merciful, Oromë, finish him off.”

“Since when am I known for mercy?”

“ _Please_ – ”

Curufin rolled his eyes and looked away as Oromë yielded to Finrod’s cut-off plea, until the bed rattled against the wall.

 

* * *

 

When Finrod woke, he shifted closer to the warm body next to him, wincing as a faint ache shot through him. He made to tuck his chin against Curufin’s shoulder, only to realize it wasn’t Curufin he was curled against, but Celegorm.

He stirred and half sat up. “Where’s – ”

“Mmm,” said Celegorm sleepily. “Shh.”

“Curvo – ”

“After your performance,” Celegorm said, and yawned, “Curvo decided that he wanted a go too. But he said the bed wasn’t structurally sound enough for a third round – ”

“A third – ?”

“ - So he and Oromë are in the baths.” Celegorm rolled over and winked. “Just you and me, cousin. Want to see if my bite is worse than that of a Vala?”

 

* * *

 

Curufin took a long draught of wine and eyed the Vala reclining casually in the water across from him. “This is a surprisingly good vintage.”

Oromë smiled. “I won’t tell you where it came from, then, o ye Dispossessed and eschewer of the Valar.’

“A bit of a mouthful, that title, isn’t it?” Curufin rolled his eyes and contemplated the wine. “Some product of Aman, then? Excellent, I can hear my father’s protests from Mandos as we speak. I’ll just pretend I’m not drinking of Yavanna’s vines.”

“That’s likely for the best.”

They drank in silence a while Curufin shifted his attention from the wine to Oromë. “What do you get from drinking wine? Does it even have an effect on you? Can Valar _get_ drunk?”

Oromë swirled the wine in his glass. “If we want to. It’s all about the metabolism…But this conversation is certainly not what we are imagined to be doing alone in here.”

“What they don’t know won’t hurt them.” Curufin looked unconcerned. “And a bit of quiet is a relief, is it not? But do elaborate on the metabolism comment.”

Oromë smiled and didn’t answer. “I see you have as curious a mind as your lover on such things.”

Curufin curled his lip at the word ‘lover’, but didn’t comment. “He and I share certain similarities, I suppose. You allow your physical form to behave like a physical form when it is in your best interest, then?”

“More or less.”

“Especially when it is in your best interest to get drunk…or to fuck my brother breathless.” Curufin smirked. “Not that it is particularly difficult to please him.”

“I fucked your lover breathless, too,” Oromë pointed out, mildly, and drained the last of the wine while Curufin tried to figure out how to respond. When it was clear he was still searching for something appropriately scathing and dismissive to say, Oromë gazed at the ceiling, and said, “How’s the Doom of the Noldor treating you?”

 

* * *

 

“Do you think they’re still…”

“Going at it? Probably.” Celegorm looked pensive, an uncharacteristic expression for him. “Oromë, as we’ve established, hardly has an endurance problem, and Curvo is remarkably determined when he wants to be.”

Finrod shifted slightly against the blankets, and Celegorm grinned at him. “Getting jealous? Oh, no, I know what it is…you are more like me than my brother in this. You _enjoy_ the idea of watching him with another.”

“I don’t object to the notion,” said Finrod easily, stretching his arms over his head, as Celegorm settled in next to him and stroked rough fingers over his chest. “As you would remember.”

Celegorm’s eyes glinted. “You combine voyeur and exhibitionist in one obnoxiously tempting package, Findaráto.”

“And you manage ever to keep me guessing whether you mean to compliment or insult.”

“Yes, well, I grew up with Curvo. I had a good teacher.” Celegorm lowered his head and bit at Finrod’s shoulder thoughtfully. “Hmm…whatever shall we do to keep ourselves entertained while they are occupied?”

“Is that a rhetorical question?” Finrod ran his fingers along Celegorm’s jaw, pulling them back quickly as Celegorm snapped at them, only half in jest.

“You know I never studied rhetoric, Ingo.”

“Then I won’t bother with insinuation and double entendre,” said Finrod, his eyes going dark with anticipation. “Are you going to fuck me or what?”

 

* * *

 

 

Curufin shook his wet hair back from his face and sighed. “I suppose we should be getting back.”

“It is true that the wine is gone and the water is getting cold,” said Oromë. “Which means there is little to keep us here.” He heaved himself out of the water, water cascading down his shoulders and chest, and Curufin forced himself not to stare.

“Apart from what they think we have been doing in here for…an impressively long time,” said Curufin.

“With any luck they are duly impressed by our apparent stamina and are now eagerly awaiting our return,” said Oromë. He didn’t bother to dry himself with one of the admittedly insufficiently sized towels by the bath, and instead shook himself like a dog, sending water flying. Curufin bit back a smile; it was a gesture that was very familiar to him from every time Celegorm bathed.

Oromë reached out a hand to Curufin and Curufin allowed himself to take it, rising from the water with a faint sigh as the cold air hit his wet skin. He paused as he stepped from the bath, head cocked to the side, listening. “What’s that sound? Do you hear – ” He broke off as large hands briefly lit of his waist, draping a towel around his hips. “I – ” He coughed. “Thank you.”

“I do hear something,” said Oromë, moving away from him as Curufin briefly ran his fingers over the skin the Vala had touched. “And I have my suspicions as to what is causing it.”

His suspicions were confirmed as Curufin and Oromë stepped into the next room. Finrod was on his knees, his hands tied to the headboard, a piece of cloth torn from the sheets knotted between his teeth. Celegorm was pressed up behind him, one arm tight around his waist, the other sweeping the hair from Finrod’s eyes in a mockery of tenderness, whispering what were unmistakably filthy words into his ear. Finrod was shining with sweat and his skin was flushed, but his enthusiasm was apparent in how he writhed back against Celegorm, panting around the gag in his mouth.

“Well,” said Curufin sardonically after taking in this scene, “this plan worked out well.”

“I’ll find more wine,” said Oromë, turning around.

 

* * *

 

“You realize this is purely scientific interest, right?”

“Of course.”

“It is an opportunity I do not think comes around often. It would be foolish to turn it down.”

“And as for me,” said Oromë, as Curufin settled naked astride his lap. “I can expand by one the number of Finwions I have made love to. Which is always worthwhile for means of comparison.”

“It is important to have a larger pool for broad representation,” said Curufin, biting his lip slightly as Oromë moved a large hand over him. “But if you call what we are doing ‘making love’ one more time, the experiment is off.”

“Noted.” Oromë leaned forward, almost curiously, to latch his mouth to Curufin’s throat. Curufin shuddered and sank down on the Vala’s lap.

“This feels less than clinical,” he said dryly, even as his eyes closed and Oromë’s tongue dragged hot down his neck.

“It’s not the most controlled experiment,” said Oromë, mouth still close to Curufin’s skin, and his voice rumbling through Curufin’s body. “But I am trying to replicate conditions as much as possible.”

“A fool’s errand,” said Curufin and shocked himself by digging his fingers into Oromë’s back as Oromë moved his hips. “In order to replicate conditions with my brother – ” he paused until he was certain he could speak without groaning, “ – I would need to be covered in blood and dirt and I would have been naked far quicker.”

“I left my stores of blood and dirt elsewhere, unfortunately,” said Oromë, and Curufin could have sworn the Vala was smiling against his skin. “But there is one similarity between the three of you, I have observed.”

Oromë wrapped his hands around Curufin’s hips, pulling him in closer, and Curufin threw his head back, gasping at the intensity of the sensation. A little embarrassed by this display, he pulled himself back together, and managed, “That similarity being?”

“All of you talk _entirely_ too much during the act of love.”

“Love has nothing to do with it, Vala,” Curufin growled, and dragged Oromë’s head back to kiss him roughly. As he did, he whispered against his lips, “We have an audience.”                

Oromë’s teeth were sharp against his lower lip. “We have for a little while now.”

“Smelled them did you, o Huntsman?” Curufin’s voice would have been mocking if it hadn’t been a bare hiss of pleasure.

“Yes.”

“Shall we give them something to watch, then?”

“Certainly. You’re going to want to hold onto something.”

Finrod and Celegorm leaned against the doorway, eyes wide. Celegorm’s fingers were digging into the doorframe, pulling up little splinters of wood, but he didn’t seem to have noticed.

“ _Eru_ , look at them.”

Finrod shook his head slightly, eyes fixed on the pair before them. “That word’s banned, remember?”

“Bloody fuck _damn_ , then.”

“Yes,” Finrod agreed. “Yes, precisely. I knew they just needed a bit of time to warm up to each other…”

 

 


End file.
